The next day, like always, Alex jogged and trained from 3 a.m. until 7 a.m. The sun had just begun to rise, casting long shadows across the streets when Alex finally arrived at the gym. But something was off—everyone was waiting for him, standing in a tight circle. Their eyes were locked on Ash, who held a tablet in his hands.
Ash turned quickly. "Hey, Alex. I have news."
Alex's voice was flat and cold. "Good or bad?"
"Good."
"Go on."
Ash pulled up a photo. "I found where one of the lowest-ranking leaders in Sean's gang is hiding. His name is Sai. His secret hideout is in an old, unused building at the edge of town. He's infamous for being brutal—but honestly, the guy's not very bright. Asian, long black hair, black glasses, always in a wrinkled blue shirt."
Alex's tone didn't change. "Give me the exact location. Everybody, let's move."
They rolled out quickly. Joe was driving the car, cracking jokes to calm the tension. "Hope this guy ain't tougher than my mom when I forget to wash the dishes."
Abdullah grinned from the back seat. "Yeah, or like Zairo when he sees a gym mirror. Can't stop flexing."
"Hey! I've got a medical condition," Zairo fired back. "It's called biceps obsession disorder."
Even Wellburgh chimed in, mimicking a GPS voice. "Turn left in 500 meters to beat the hell outta someone. Recalculating route to the ER."
Despite the jokes, Alex remained silent, eyes fixed forward, emotionless. His voice cut through their banter like a knife. "Focus."
When they reached the rusty, overgrown zone, they scoped the place. Sai and his goons were lounging on the rooftop like they had no care in the world.
Hanah, Liana, and the other girls moved in first, flirting and distracting the guards near the front. The moment their attention was diverted, each fighter took down a guard silently and swiftly. No screams. Just precision.
Alex walked alone into the building. Every step he took echoed through the corridor, heavy with tension. A man spotted him.
"Kid, what are you doing here? Get lost." The man shoved him, placing a hand on Alex's shoulder.
Alex grabbed the hand, twisted it—crack. The man howled. Before the others could react, Alex slammed a punch into the first man's face, sending him collapsing like a ragdoll.
Another came at him with a bat. Alex caught his collar, swept his legs, and threw him across the hallway. More guards surged, but Alex met each with brutal precision. No knives. No guns. Just fists. Just rage. Blood on his knuckles—but none of it was his.
He climbed to the second floor. More guards. Bigger. Meaner. Didn't matter. Alex was a storm of cold fury. He struck throats, snapped bones, dropped bodies. A particularly large guy rushed him—Alex didn't hesitate. One clean strike to the throat. Down.
His knuckles were now dripping. Blood mixed with sweat. Still not his.
At the rooftop, two twins—quick and trained—came at him. One threw a spinning kick, the other a cross punch. Alex ducked, dodged, countered. A hook to the jaw. A leg sweep. Both were down.
He snapped the kicker's leg. The scream echoed. The other twin hesitated, punched. Alex ducked, drove a hook into his ribs, grappled him to the ground, then unleashed a storm of punches to his face—relentless, emotionless.
Then came Sai.
"Well, well, well," Sai said, clapping sarcastically. His smile oozed arrogance. "Our hero thinks he's some big shot. You really think you can beat me?"
Alex didn't blink. "Shut up."
He charged. Sai swung. Alex ducked, swept his legs. Sai hit the ground. Alex mounted him, wrapped his arm around Sai's throat, and squeezed. Sai tapped frantically.
"S... stop!"
Alex didn't let go until he passed out.
Later, Sai woke up tied to a chair, soaked in gasoline. His face was bruised and bloodied. Alex stood in front of him, a lighter in hand.
"What are you gonna do with that gas, huh?!" Sai shouted, trying to act unfazed. But the smirk was trembling.
Alex crouched, lighting a small flame on the ground beside him. The heat tickled Sai's legs.
"Interrogation," Alex said coldly. "Where's Sean? Exact location. Lie—and you burn."
"Okay! Okay! I swear! He's up north—in England. Near the coast. A big white mansion. But that's not all! He's got loads of criminal records—drugs, trafficking. You could hack the police database and find him. I swear!"
Alex looked at him. Then blew out the flame.
He turned and walked away.
"Wait! What about me?! You leaving me like this?!"
Alex didn't even glance back. "Cops will be here soon. Enjoy."
He left the building. Liana was already on her phone, tipping off the police.
That night, everyone was gathered around the TV in the coach's room, eyes wide.
News Anchor: "Sai, suspected in several gang-related cases, including the tragic murder of Alex's mother, was arrested this evening. Sources say an anonymous tip led to the arrest."
Joe leaned back. "Dang. I thought Sai would melt into that chair."
Abdullah sipped his drink. "Nah man, he probably peed himself."
Zairo added, "If I ever get tied up like that, someone better bring marshmallows."
Wellburgh deadpanned, "That man looked like a roasted chicken with glasses."
Everyone laughed—except Alex. He just watched in silence, sipping water.
"So what now?" Joe asked him.
Alex replied with a calm tone. "Next target."
Meanwhile, in a lavish mansion near the northern coast, Sean punched the wall. A thug flinched nearby.
"How the fuck did you idiots let Alex catch Sai?!" he growled, smoke curling from his cigarette.
"We didn't know he'd find him, sir. He just… showed up."
Sean exhaled sharply. "Get out. I'll handle this."
The war had just begun.